


A dream is a wish

by lostwithoutmyanchor (mysourwolf)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Djinni & Genies, Don't copy to another site, M/M, The Steter Network
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29193888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysourwolf/pseuds/lostwithoutmyanchor
Summary: After the pack faced a djinn Stiles got to live his dream.============================================Stiles woke with a gasp, sitting up in panic. He frantically looked around, panting heavily. “What happened?” he asked when he realized that he was sitting on one of the examination tables in Deaton’s clinic.“The djinn got you bad before we killed it, sweetheart,” Peter said quietly and reached out to brush over Stiles’ cheek.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 24
Kudos: 208
Collections: Steter Discord Valentine's Exchange 2021





	A dream is a wish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DiscontentedWinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscontentedWinter/gifts).



> Don't post/copy ro another site!
> 
> ===========================
> 
> Happy Valentine's day!

“Stiles! Wake up!” 

“Stiles, please wake up.”

“Stiles, sweetheart, please come back to me.”

Stiles woke with a gasp, sitting up in panic. He frantically looked around, panting heavily. “What happened?” he asked when he realized that he was sitting on one of the examination tables in Deaton’s clinic.

“The djinn got you bad before we killed it, sweetheart,” Peter said quietly and reached out to brush over Stiles’ cheek.

“Oh.” Stiles sighed and turned to sit sideways on the table. “Can I get a hug?”

“Of course! Anytime! You know that.” Peter stepped between Stiles’ legs and hugged him tight, nuzzling the side of his neck.

Breathing in Peter’s scent, Stiles mumbled, “I don’t feel too bad to be honest.”

Peter laughed softly. “I would hope so. Deaton patched you up and everyone took turns taking your pain.”

“Everyone?”

“Sure. I did of course. Scott, Derek, even Isaac.”

“Cool,” Stiles said and pushed Peter gently away to stand up. He wobbled a little and had to steady himself against Peter’s chest. “Can we go home? I wanna cuddle up with you in a real bed.”

“Whatever you want, darling. I just have to text Scott you woke up. He was really worried. The pack would’ve stayed but Deaton said you should get some peace and quiet,” Peter replied and took out his phone. When he was done, he took Stiles’ hand, lacing their fingers together before leading him out to the back parking lot. 

At the sight of his jeep, Stiles had to smile. The paint job Peter had sprung for on his birthday looked really good. And the sound of the new engine, when Peter started it up, was one of the most beautiful sounds Stiles had ever heard. He leaned back, graciously allowing Peter to drive because he still felt a little tired.

Soon they arrived at the Stilinski house and Peter opened the door with his own key. They stepped inside and were about to go upstairs when Stiles’ father came out of the kitchen. “Kiddo!” John said loudly and pulled Stiles into a bear hug. “I was so worried about you.” 

“Hey, dad. I’m fine. Everything is alright. Peter was protecting me. Right?” he asked, looking over his shoulder.

“I would never let anything happen to you. You know that. You, too, John.”

“I do, I do,” John responded and moved out of the hug to slap Peter’s shoulder. “But you know I can’t help worrying anyway, Peter.”

Peter conceded with a nod. Of course a good parent would worry. 

Stiles grinned at them getting along but then started to yawn. “We should go to bed,” Peter said hurriedly and after an affirmation from the sheriff, he ushered Stiles upstairs.

“We should shower,” Stiles said and waggled his eyebrows when they passed the bathroom.

“Maybe tomorrow. You need sleep.” Peter’s tone tolerated no argument and Stiles let himself be led to his room. Peter undressed him with gentle hands before helping him into flannel pants and an old, big v-neck shirt that used to belong to Peter himself. Then Peter changed his own clothes and they both burrowed into the bed, snuggling up against each other. Peter started to whisper sweet nothings, nuzzling Stiles’ neck again and soon Stiles was out like a light.

><><

The next day Stiles woke up and it was the most wonderful feeling to just lie next to his boyfriend. They started the day by kissing languidly and then taking a shower together. This led to more kisses and other sweet things. Afterwards Peter made him breakfast and then they spent the next few hours in bed again, only interrupted by Peter also rustling up a quick lunch.

Later that day, they drove to Derek’s loft for their traditional Saturday pack meeting which was doubling as movie night when there wasn’t a threat that had to be dealt with. Peter held the door open and Stiles stepped inside. Suddenly he was attacked with a tight, aggressive hug. “Don’t scare me like that,” Malia growled and hugged him impossibly tighter. 

“Malia, babe, you’ll crush him,” Kira warned and gently pried Malia off of him only to clutch at him instead. “She’s right, though. You really scared us.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Stiles said sheepishly, returning her hug.

Peter jumped in, reprimanding them. “It wasn’t his fault, you know that.”

“Yes, leave him alone,” Scott chimed in and came over. He took over from Kira, hugging Stiles tightly as well. “Glad you’re okay, bro.” 

After that everyone else gave him a hug as well and then Peter led him to the couch where they snuggled up, Kira and Malia on their sides. He listened to the pack debate which pizza place they should order from and eventually piped up, asking for his favorite place. Lydia nodded decisively and placed the order. Feeling pleased, Stiles leaned back and sighed contently. Peter leaned over, wrapping one arm around Stiles’ shoulder and kissing him softly on the cheek.

Eventually everyone settled down on the couch and the beanbags, now debating which movie to watch. Kira stated that Stiles should decide but then Isaac said excitedly, “We should watch a genie movie! It was so cool yesterday when Stiles and Peter finished the djinn off.”

“Yeah,” Scott shouted and stood up, grinning at them. “You did really great! You saved all of us.”

Stiles’ thoughts ground to a halt and he blinked repeatedly. Did… did Scott just applaud him for killing someone or rather something? That was basically unheard off. Usually he would have to defend himself for hours afterwards. And Peter killing was even worse because Scott jumped to bashing Peter every chance he got. He started to feel uneasy, a churning in his stomach. Turning his head, he stared at Peter intently, raising an eyebrow. But Peter just smiled and pulled him closer, kissing him firmly. It distracted Stiles sufficiently at first but after a few minutes he pulled back to take a breath, wanting to say something. Only Peter pulled him into another kiss. 

Stiles automatically moved into the kiss but his mind was racing now. Peter was so nice to him. Maybe too nice? Isaac was definitely too nice. Lydia would never order from Stiles’ favorite pizza place because they didn’t have organic cheese. His dad being home on a Friday night, even when Stiles was injured, was basically unheard of. And sure Kira and Malia were hugging him plenty but they usually weren’t this loving. Derek always acted like hugging was a chore, only doing it under dire threat. Peter being nice to him was not unusual. But paying for the jeep’s repairs and a paint job? And making Stiles breakfast and lunch? When did they even get together? Stiles couldn’t remember and it made him panic. 

He stood up, rubbing the back of his neck frantically as everyone started to question if he was okay. They never asked if he was okay. Only Peter did and only when Stiles couldn’t hide being hurt fast enough. But Scott! Scott would never ever, not in a million years, applaud Stiles killing someone. So, there was only one possibility. What Stiles was seeing wasn’t real. He thought back to the djinn and decided that he must be hallucinating. His heart raced and he desperately tried to think of a way out. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Peter asked and stood up, looking at Stiles with kind eyes. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, reminding himself it wasn’t real. 

Suddenly everyone started talking to him at once. Asking if he was okay. Asking what they could do to help him. Generally being kind to him. People started touching him, rubbing his back, stroking his hair. A shudder ran through him and he yelped, jumping away from them. “Don’t touch me,” he screamed, walking backwards. Everyone still looked concerned, making gentle noises as they started to approach him slowly. 

Stiles started to hyperventilate as he kept backing up. They kept getting closer and closer and he had nowhere to go. Derek was blocking the entrance and Scott the way through the fire escape. Everyone was smiling but their faces started to distort. 

“No,” Stiles whimpered and then suddenly his back hit the wall. He inhaled shakily, trying to get some air into his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to ignore the hands touching him. His knees gave out and he hunkered down, making himself small. The hands were on him still. Heart-breakingly gentle but relentless. Stiles kept batting them away until he eventually leaned forward, his own hands holding his head while he whispered hopelessly, “Please don’t. Please leave me alone. Go away. Everyone go away. You’re not real. You’re not real. Please! You’re not real! Not real. Not real. Not real.”

He kept repeating it over and over again, expecting his body to go into a full panic attack at every moment. But he kept being right on the edge and soon time lost all meaning. There was no way to tell how long he had been cowering there as he tried to block them all out. Only at some point he slowly started to realize that things were changing. He could only hear the pack from far away, their voices oddly warped. Their hands felt less like they were petting him and more like rain drops falling down on his skin. 

“Stiles! Stiles, I’m here,” a voice said, loud and clear. Bright and… and real.

Stiles gasped and opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Peter kneeling in front of him, looking half dead. His face, hair and clothes were covered in dirt and blood but his eyes were blazing beta blue. 

“Peter.” Stiles’ voice wavered as he scrambled onto his knees. “Peter. Peter, are you real?” he asked, reaching out to grab Peter’s face. 

“I’m real,” Peter replied, his voice almost breaking. “I’m real and you’re back. You’re back.” He sobbed and then pulled Stiles in for a hug. 

And Stiles instantly knew that it was true. He was indeed back because his body started to scream in agony when Peter squeezed him. He let out a garbled noise and Peter pulled back at once. “Oh, fuck!” he cursed sharply. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He was holding Stiles wrist and suddenly the pain lessened, black lines appearing on Peter’s hands.

“No!” Stiles shouted and pulled away, hiding his hands. “No. Please. I need to.. I need to feel it. The pain. That it’s.. that it’s real,” he whispered, feeling pathetic.

Peter clearly didn’t like that but he nodded. “Whatever you need.” 

“So,” Stiles said slowly, looking around. They were in some sort of cave. Walls made up of earth, roots and stones. There were several holes in the ceiling that let in some light but it was still dim. “How did I get here?”

“When we split up, the djinn managed to take you here. We traced him and fought him but he had already put you under the spell.”

“Damn. Did someone get hurt? Did you get hurt? You’re bleeding!” He reached out, wanting to wipe the blood off of Peter’s cheekbone.

“I’m fine. It’s not my blood,” Peer said gently and caught Stiles’ hand. Stiles’ breath hitched but he wanted to understand first. 

“So, you killed it and I woke up?” 

Peter grimaced. “Not exactly. I tore his head off but you were still sitting there motionless. We tried to wake you but then Lydia called from Deaton’s. She’d found a book, saying that people under a djinn’s spell need to wake up by themselves. If you force them to wake up the magical backlash would kill them. So… we waited.”

Blinking, Stiles looked around. “We?” he repeated flatly.

Grunting, Peter pulled Stiles gently closer. “Malia, Kira, Derek and I. But Derek had to leave to drive Lydia home from Deaton’s and Malia and Kira offered to burn the djinn’s body.”

“And Isaac? Scott?” Pressing his lips together, Peter stayed silent, so Stiles ordered, “Peter tell me!”

“They left after Scott finished berating me for killing the djinn.”

For a second it was dead quiet but then Stiles started to laugh. He laughed chokingly and violently, tears streaming down his face. Peter couldn’t do anything but stare at him helplessly. Eventually he pulled himself together, wiping his wet cheeks. “Sorry. It’s just… so different than in the dream. Hallucination. Whatever it was. It makes everything feel even more real.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Peter stated drily, making Stiles chuckle again. “As nice as this is, we really should get going. We couldn’t move you without risk and you haven’t had anything to eat and drink all day.”

Stiles let Peter help him up but watched him suspiciously. “What?” Peter asked, when he noticed Stiles’ stare.

Biting his lip, Stiles decided what to say. In the end he said honestly, “You’re being too nice.”

“Oh?” Peter asked, leading him to the excit. “Was I nice in the hallucination.”

“Yes.” Stiles suddenly giggled helplessly. “So nice. You were basically worshipping the ground I walked on.”

Peter stilled, standing right at the exit of the cave, the morning light illuminating his face. “Are you saying,” he began gingerly but soldiered on quickly, “that your ideal dream world is my reality?”

“What?” Stiles asked dumbly. 

“Stiles. I do worship the ground you walk on.”

Scoffing Stiles turned to keep walking. “Yeah, right.”

“Stiles,” Peter repeated sharply, gently turning him back to look him in the eyes. “It’s true. I… Stiles, I love you,” he choked out. “When you wouldn’t wake up… the thought of losing you, to be honest I was halfway insane already.”

Stiles stared at him with his mouth hanging open but then his tongue darted out, wetting his lips. “You love me? Like for real?” he whispered.

Peter laughed, visibly trying to hold back tears. “Yes, you wonderful idiot. I love you.”

“Oh.” Stiles swallowed thickly. “Cool. Awesome.”

“Cool?” Peter repeated flatly and his tone made Stiles grin widely.

“Very cool. Very, very cool. Because I love you, too. You insanely hot creeper.”

Inhaling sharply, Peter pulled Stiles closer, minding his strength. “In that case it really is cool.”

Stiles laughed. “Yep, so cool. Now will you kiss me already?”

“It will be my pleasure.” And he did.

The kiss was different from all the kisses in Stiles’ dream. He could taste Peter’s breath, feel his dry lips and his rough stubble. But all that was glorious. It was real. 

They lost themselves in the kiss and each other, clinging close. Eventually Stiles’ knees gave out and Peter had to catch him. “Damn it,” he cursed. “I shouldn’t have stopped. Let’s get you home, watered, fed and rested.”

“I’m glad you stopped,” Stiles panted, stumbling along while clinging to Peter’s side. “But yeah, I wouldn’t mind all those things.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” Peter stated gravely and Stiles believed him.

FIN


End file.
